


Life in Villeneuve

by wallpidgeon



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types, Disney - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gaston is still Gaston, LeFou deserves better, Slow Burn, beloved disney characters swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 18:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15149138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallpidgeon/pseuds/wallpidgeon
Summary: Adam's father has had enough of his antics and sends him off to live in a small village in the French countryside as punishment. He's put to work at a local restaurant and is forced to deal with something he has never before faced in his life: being treated like a normal person instead of like a prince.Belle is an aspiring inventor who feels trapped in the small town of Villeneuve. It's not all bad though, she has her friends and her books to get her by. She's completely unimpressed when she meets the prince who's staying in her village, but maybe he's not as bad as she thought he was.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I felt I should give a fair warning that my knowledge of French culture is lacking, to say the least. So don’t go into this fanfiction expecting an accurate portrayal of life in the French countryside. Also, I realize that France doesn’t really have royals anymore. Let’s say this is in an alternate world where France has a similar system to England, where the royals are pretty much just ceremonial.  
> Eternal thanks and hugs to Ash for beta-reading, and also coming up with the basis for this story.

 

Adam was sat in his father’s office while he paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. This wasn’t the first time the young prince had been in trouble with his father, and it undoubtedly would not be the last. Olivier Villeneuve was not a patient or particularly kind man. Adam was sure that, deep down, he loved his father and his father loved him. But they didn’t particularly like each other, and they never really had.

“You’ve always been… difficult, Adam,” his father finally said, halting his pacing to stare sternly down at his son. Adam chose to refrain from rolling his eyes. “This is the last straw. It really is this time.”

There had been a ball. Adam had always hated those, and last night was no exception. And when Adam was forced to attend an event against his will, he rarely ended the night sober. He didn’t think that what he had done was all that bad, he simply mistook a woman from an extremely powerful British family for the help. And sure, he might have called her a few insulting names and spilled a glass of wine on her hideous - yet expensive -dress. It wasn’t the worst thing he had ever done at one of those parties.

His father was mad, though. Possibly madder than Adam had ever seen the man, and he almost exclusively saw Olivier mad.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” the older man grumbled.

Adam cocked his head. “Stop making me go to your shitty parties?” His father simply silently glared at him.

Adam was a member of the House of Villeneuve. He wasn’t in line for the throne, which he was perfectly fine with. But being young, handsome, controversial, and apart of the royal family meant that he was still prominent in the press. His popularity among the tabloids was the source of many of Olivier’s headaches.

Olivier put his hands on his hips and stared up at the ceiling. Adam recognized this, it was the stance his father always took when he was deciding how to deal with a problem. It was a stance the man was all too familiar with.

His father spoke after what seemed like an hour. “There are several towns and villages in France named after our family.” He paused for a moment, as if bracing himself for what he was planning to say. Adam took this as a bad sign. “When I was a young man, younger than you, my uncle ordered me and my cousins to go on a tour of all of those towns. I suppose it was meant to humble us.”

Adam felt relieved. He could handle a few weeks of traveling around the lesser travelled regions of France. That relief was short lived.

“I remember in particular one village. It was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by forest and mountains. Only had a population of around one hundred. Oh, it was a lovely little village, filled with hard workers and good people. The woods were good for hunting and the mountains and hills good for climbing.” The young prince started slowly shaking his head, starting to fear where this speech was going. His father continued on, “I think it would do you some good to stay in a place like that. Get some fresh air, shrink your ego.”

“No,” Adam said immediately and solidly.

“I’m not giving you a choice, son.”

Adam sat in his chair, feeling a panic slowly rise in his gut. Maybe it didn’t appear that way, but Adam quite enjoyed his life the way it was. He stared past his father, into the dying embers of the fireplace, trying to think of a way to weasel out of this.

After a minute, he spoke up. “How about I apologise to the girl? What was her name… ah, Agathe. I could-”

“No, Adam.” His father crossed his arms and set his jaw.

The prince let out a huff. “I’ll stay out of the tabloids for a month.”

Olivier couldn’t help it, he laughed loudly and bitterly. “We both know you’re incapable of that. The tabloids love you too much, and I suspect you enjoy the attention. You will go to Villeneuve, and there you will stay. I’m sure I can find you work and board there, I’m still on good terms with some of the residents.”

Adam grit his teeth. “And how long do you expect me to stay there?”

Olivier looked as if he was suppressing a smirk. “A year, at the least.” His son opened his mouth to protest but Olivier held up a hand to silence him. “Now, I have other matters to attend to for now. Fixing your screw ups, namely.” And with that, Olivier turned on his heel and left the office, leaving Adam alone and seething by the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is short, but they won't all be this short.


	2. Little Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Belle.

Belle awoke to loud voices and laughter coming from outside. She groaned, hating the abrupt awakening. She sat up in her bed and spent a few seconds stretching before standing up and going to the window to look out. The small home her and her father lived in was unfortunately placed right near the town center. Anytime something even vaguely exciting happened in the village, Belle and Maurice were among the first to know about it. Both fortunately and unfortunately, exciting things were a rare occurrence in the town. It was a small village that couldn’t be found on most maps where everyone knew each other’s personal business.

Outside by the fountain was a small crowd of people, around fifteen or twenty people. They were chattering and seemed anticipatory. Belle scrunched her nose at the gathering. It wasn’t a holiday, and the mail truck that came twice a month wasn’t due for another week. As far as she could tell, there was no reason for a large group of people to be gathering in the square and waking her up too early on a Monday.

She stood there a few moments longer, as if watching the group of people talking amongst each other would somehow disperse the crowd. Sighing, she turned to look at the clock on her wall. There was only about a half hour before she was supposed to have gotten up, but it still annoyed Belle. She valued her sleep.

She got dressed and went downstairs. Her father wasn’t awake yet, which made sense. He usually worked on his projects late into the night and often early on into the early hours of the next day. There had even been a few instances of Belle coming downstairs to start her morning and finding that Maurice hadn’t even gone to bed the night before.

She made herself some toast, and ate while reading a book. She was currently rereading _To Kill a Mockingbird_ for the sixth time. Belle made herself another two slices of toast, and by the time she was done with that her father still hadn’t appeared.

Belle had work later on in the morning, and decided to occupy herself with some farm work before she had to leave. Belle and her father weren’t heavily into farming like many of the villagers were, but they had a few chickens and some vegetable crops to tend to. They also had a horse named Philippe that they rescued from another farmer. Philippe had gotten too old to help out with work, and the farmer who previously owned him was going to put him down before Maurice had intervened. Belle and Maurice had gotten him for almost free, as he was useless as a farm horse.

Belle still hadn’t seen her father by the time she left for work, which meant he must’ve stayed up quite late the night before. This wasn’t unusual, for Maurice had a tendency to get completely lost in his projects. He was an artist, skilled at both painting and metalworking. His art, combined with the money they made selling their produce and Belle working part time was just enough to support the two.

 

“Belle!” The girl looked towards the voice calling to her, seeing Plumette rushing at her. Plumette (whose real name was Fifi, yet only answered to her nickname) seemed very excitable about something. The two had been close friends since they were young, despite their different personalities. “He’s here!”

Belle looked at her friend inquisitively. “Who’s here?”

Plumette swatted her friend’s arm playfully. “Do you pay attention to anything I tell you about?”

“Of course I do!” Belle said defensively. “You’re my best friend, I always pay attention to you.”

Plumette nodded sarcastically, “Mhmm. So you remember when I told you last month that Lumiere and I are hosting a prince?”

Belle did not remember. She really did try to listen to everything Plumette told her, truly. But Plumette talked a lot, and she talked very fast. Especially when she was excited. So maybe every once in awhile something Plumette said would fly right through Belle’s ears. “I… think I remember something about that,” Belle lied. She wasn’t a particularly good liar, and Plumette knew this, but she wasn’t even annoyed.

Plumette shook her head in exasperation. “So a month ago, Lumi comes home and tells me that Cogsworth has asked him for a favor. Cogsworth is apparently friends, or at least friendly with, someone in the royal family. No one too important, but still. _The royal family!”_ Plumette was the type of person who talked with her hands. Especially when she was telling a story, and _especially_ when she was excited. Belle had always found this a little distracting, but she tried her best to pay attention since she could tell that Plumette thought this was important.

“Anyways, this old friend’s son got himself into a bit of trouble and his father wanted to send him out here to ‘clear his head’ or whatever,” Plumette made some strange flapping gesture around her own head. “And he wants his son to live like a commoner, I suppose, so Cogsworth asked Lumiere if he would mind having this man stay in our guest room until he could get a place of his own. So here we are, a month later, with a bloody _prince_ staying in our house. How incredible is that?”

Belle nodded. “Very incredible.” Her words certainly didn’t match her unimpressed tone.

Plumette looked taken aback. “Oh come on, I know you think you’re so cool, but you’re really not amazed that there is an actual royal prince living in our village? Nothing this amazing ever happens here! A prince, Belle!”

“Is he nice?” It was the only thing Belle could think to ask.

Plumette thought for a moment and shrugged. “He’s… polite. He definitely doesn’t want to be here, and I think he thought our guest room was _beneath_ him, but whatever. He didn’t say anything rude.”

It’s not that Belle didn’t care. It’s just that she always thought the royal family was unnecessary. They didn’t live in a monarchy, all the royals really did were eat up taxpayer money. Yet the public adored them and wanted to know everything it was that they did. They didn’t earn their titles, they were born with them. This prince probably hadn’t done anything important or noteworthy in his life, yet Plumette was excited just because of his title.

“And get this,” Plumette continued on. “He’s working _here.”_ This did surprise Belle. The ‘here’ that Plumette was referring to was Cogsworth’s.

Cogsworth’s was a restaurant that had been started by Henri Cogsworth’s great grandfather. It wasn’t actually located in Villeneuve, but in its neighboring town of Palier. It had started as a small family business, and slowly grew over the next generations of Cogsworths to become the most esteemed restaurant in the area. It was part of the reason that Palier was such a wealthy village. It was now owned by the aforementioned Henri, who ran the restaurant with pride. Henri was a man in his 70’s who was both very strict and very kind. He was a stickler for the rules and insisted that all his employees be on time, but he was also understanding when things went wrong.

Belle and Plumette both worked there as waitresses. They had both started working there together in their late teens and enjoyed it thoroughly. Plumette’s fiancé Lumiere also worked at the restaurant as the maître'd. It was a fine place to work. Belle loved how you could tell how much love and passion Cogsworth’s family had put into the restaurant over the past several decades. It was a very clean and well designed building, and much larger than it had been when it was first built. It had gone through renovation after renovation, always improving and getting bigger. Yet there were still traces of the small family establishment it had started as, like the aging pictures of the Cogsworth family over the generations, the grandfather clock that had belonged to Henri’s great great grandparents proudly displayed by the front entry, and many other fixtures that had been saved from the original restaurant.

“The prince is working? Really?” Belle was skeptical.

Plumette nodded. She nodded an awful lot. “Yes! We have to train him as a waiter. He starts on Wednesday. I don’t think that poor man has ever worked a day in his life,” she laughed softly.

“I don’t think I’d consider someone who’s had everything handed to them in life as a poor man.”

“Oh, you know what I mean! He’ll have no idea what he’s doing.”

“Great!” Belle said dryly. Her friend rolled her eyes.

“I thought you’d be more excited about this. You’ve always loved those stories about princess and princesses.”  
“Those are _fictional_ , Plumette," Belle reminded her. "I don’t really care for the real deal.”

Plumette changed the subject, and the two went on into the restaurant to clock in for their shifts. Unlike many fine dining places, Cogsworth’s was open for breakfast until dinner. Henri and the owners before him had all wanted to keep the same schedules the restaurant had always had, even though it’s reputation had changed a lot over time.

Breakfast was slow that day, which wasn’t unusual for weekdays. Lunch was busier, and Belle didn’t get to see how dinner went because she was done with work by then. She decided to stop by the local library before going home.

 

The Villenueve Public Library was one of Belle’s favorite places, yet library seemed like a bit of a stretch. It was a small building that rarely ever got new books, but that didn’t bother Belle. There were plenty of old, lesser known books to read. If she ever wanted anything new, she could order it online. The library was a great place to discover stories she might never have heard of otherwise. The library largely relied on donations, and as it was the only library in the area, most of the unwanted books people had ended up on its shelves.

The librarian, and only employee, was a man named Robert. He was a few years older than Belle and the son of the local pastor. He greeted her as she entered the library, and they had a short discussion about the latest books they had been reading before Belle went off to search for something new. The library was almost completely empty, as usual. There were a handful of older people scattered about reading or browsing. The one computer the library housed was occupied by a teenager playing a game.

It wasn’t that Villeneuve was illiterate, although Belle did suspect that a few of her fellow villagers were. The people there just didn’t value knowledge or reading very much. All people really cared about was working, drinking, and family. Which was fine, Belle wasn’t against that. She just wished a few more people had an interest in intellect and books. Belle wanted to be an inventor, and most people in the town just didn’t understand that. They didn’t understand her father’s art either, or their love for reading. Which Belle has always said she was fine with. It frustrated her at times, and made her feel alone and misunderstood.

She had her friends like Plumette and Lumiere and Beatrice and Robert, and her father, and her horse, and that was fine with her. And she had this library, and her tools. She didn’t love living in Villeneuve, but it was fine. Really. There were only a few things she absolutely could not stand in the town.

“Ah, Belle!” And there, like a bad luck charm, was Gaston LeGume. Gaston had been a nuisance to Belle ever since high school when he noticed she was pretty. He was, in Belle’s mind, the amalgamation of everything wrong with this town. Gaston was extremely conceited. He came from a wealthy family from Palier, and he loved to flaunt that wealth. They owned not one, but three local taverns. One in Palier, one in Villeneuve, and another in Autreville (yet another neighboring village).

Gaston had always been unbearable as long as Belle could remember. She moved here at the age of seven, and remembered Gaston being a shallow asshole even then. He always picked on the smaller kids and anyone he deemed lesser than him. This included Belle, for a time. He had always teased her for having her nose in a book and for being poor.

She had befriended Plumette in their last year of primary school, which had an added bonus of helping keep Gaston away. Plumette, though she was always kind and bubbly in Belle’s company, was good at striking fear in the hearts of men. Gaston refused to even make eye contact with her. Belle greatly admired her friend.

As a result of this, Gaston had largely left Belle alone in middle school aside from a few small comments. He didn’t mature very much, he still picked on the smaller kids. The only person who could really keep him in line was his friend LeFou.

Things changed in high school. Belle had hoped that Gaston even attending in the first place was a sign he was growing as a person, seeing as school is only required until age sixteen. Unfortunately he only went to appease his parents and to flirt with girls. Gaston started becoming frustrated that Belle was the only (single) girl who wasn’t fawning over him. He did everything he could to get her attention, and she refuted him every time. He never seemed to get the hint.

Gaston went into the army when he became an adult. Belle thought that if anything could make Gaston mature, it was that. But alas, he was still as pigheaded as ever. She saw him in the library often, and whatever he may claim, it wasn’t because he had an interest in reading.

Belle hugged the book she was holding closer to her chest. “Good afternoon, Gaston,” she said politely but not warmly. Her father had always taught her to take the high ground with people like Gaston.

He was leaning back in a chair with his boots crossed on the empty table. It seemed she had interrupted him taking pictures of himself. He put his phone down on the table and crossed his arms behind his head, trying to look charming. “It’s been awhile, Belle. How’ve you been? How’s Maurice?”

“Good,” she replied shortly.

“I just got back this week and I’ll be here for the next few months,” he said. He seemed disappointed that he had to explain this without being asked. With an air of hope, he continued on, “Surely you’ll have time to go to dinner with me in that time?”

Belle didn’t believe that Gaston was stupid. Oblivious and arrogant, sure. But he was clever in his own way. He was smart enough to know that Belle wasn’t currently interested, but too egotistical to think that that would never change. Gaston just wasn’t Belle’s type, in more ways than one.

Belle sighed. She’d, at first, come up with excuses as to why she would never go out to dinner or coffee with Gaston. In their past few encounters she had started trying to break it to him that she just wasn’t interested. “Gaston… It would never work. _We_ would never work. You must know that by now.” The man was unperturbed by this.

“Think of how good we would look together, Belle,” the man continued as if she had said nothing. “Think of how good our children could look…”

Belle couldn’t help but cringe at the thought. How Gaston could ever think that was an appropriate thing to say was beyond her. “I’m not ready to have children. And there’s so much more than _looks,_ Gaston. I’d want someone I could talk to. We have nothing in common.”

“We have so much in common, Belle!” Gaston argued in good humor. “We come from the same village, we’re both good looking. Two of the best looking people in our corner of the world, I might add. We…” He stopped, searching for words.

“Is that all?” Belle asked, raising an eyebrow. Gaston was starting to look flustered, which was always amusing. He normally was so cool and collected.

Belle had never understood why he was so stuck on the idea of her. Sure, maybe she was the only girl in the village who wouldn’t give him the time of day. But they had no common interests, nothing they could ever bond over. There wasn’t exactly a shortage of girls in the area who were interested in Gaston. If all he wanted was to get laid, Belle certainly wasn’t his only option.

“Belle-” He started again, but she shook her head.  
“I have to get home soon, Gaston. I’m sorry.” And on that note, she turned on her heel and hurried back to the front counter to check out the book she had found.


	3. Is This Home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam is introduced to Villeneuve.

Adam wasn’t surprised, but he was disappointed that his father hadn’t seen him off. He hadn’t even said goodbye the last time he saw him, two days before Adam’s scheduled departure. Adam stared out the car window gloomily. He was not looking forward to his exile.

He had, at first, hoped that his father would change his mind. ‘Surely, this is just his anger speaking. He’ll get over it,’ he had thought to himself. When he realized that his father  _ was  _ serious and wasn’t going to back down, he started doing everything he could to weasel out of it. Faking illness, attempting to  _ actually _ get ill, even trying to flee the country twice. His father saw through his bullshit and told him that this was something he could not get out of. Olivier was determined.

And he hadn’t even said goodbye. Adam couldn’t get that off of his mind. The last time they were in the same room, Adam brought up the exile. “It’s my last week in Paris,” he had reminded his father. Olivier said nothing, only grunting in response. “I probably won’t see you for awhile. Maybe not even for a whole year,” he prompted.

“I suppose not,” his father said, with no emotion in his voice.

Olivier was not a good father. Adam would tell that to anyone who asked, much to his father’s chagrin. He wasn’t sure why he still held out for him, still expected some form of affection from the man, after all these years. Adam wasn’t sure if his father had always been this way, or if something had happened to him. As far back as the prince could remember, Olivier had been like this. Cold and apathetic and distant.

His mother had been different. His mother cared. She wouldn’t have let Olivier send him off like this, he was sure of it. But that was something Adam preferred not to dwell on.

As if to add insult to injury, the trip to Villeneuve Olivier had arranged for his son was not a nice one. He had taken a train, in  _ coach _ , halfway there. And then he had to take multiple cabs to get to the village. Adam had never taken a cab in his life. He didn’t even have any kind of security with him, which was usually protocol for any trips outside of Paris. At one point he had to share a car with an elderly woman and her caged chicken. 

The landscape in this part of the country was so barren compared to what the prince was used to. All his life he had been surrounded by beautiful, clean buildings. Tall towers and and well kept gardens. He had seen all the seven wonders of the world, both ancient and natural. He had grown up with a view of the Eiffel Tower. And now here he was, traveling along a dusty road with the smell of cows in the air. 

 

The village he had been banished to was small and had a certain kind of charm. It was surrounded by a thick, beautiful forest. The houses were old fashioned and lovely. Even though he had to admit the village of Villeneuve was picturesque, he still detested the thought of staying there. He cursed his father one last time before climbing out of the cab and taking his first steps into the village.

The first thing he noticed was the smell. The village’s economy was heavily based on farming, he knew this. But he hadn’t expected the smell of animals that he suspected lingered over the whole town. Then he noticed the roads, which were paved with packed dirt instead of stone or concrete. Adam grit his teeth. His father must’ve known just how ill-fitted his son would be to this village.

Soon after exiting the cab, Adam was greeted by a very exuberant looking man who must’ve been around his own age.  _ “Salȗt,  _ your highness! I am Lumiere!”

Adam stared blankly at the other man for a moment. “I, ah… You don’t have to call me ‘your highness.’ Just ‘Adam’, will do,” he said stiffly. “Is your name actually Lumiere? No offense…”

Lumiere laughed warmly. Adam was already starting to take a liking to the man, he just seemed so friendly. “Yes, my prince, that is my real name. What can I say? My family loves the light.” Lumiere began walking away from the road and towards what appeared to be the village square, and the prince followed without question. 

Adam let out a short breath of laughter. “Really, please just call me ‘Adam.’ I can’t stand the other titles.” Something had always made him uncomfortable about being addressed so formally. Especially in a place like this. 

“Well, Adam, welcome to Villeneuve!” Lumiere said, spreading his arms to gesture to the village. A small crowd was ambling around the town square, trying to act as if they hadn’t gathered to see the prince arrive. Adam looked around, taking in the old-fashioned homes and the cobbled stone. There was a lovely and very old looking fountain in the center, it’s basin littered with coins as most fountains are.  

Adam had only known a handful of things about his father’s arrangement with the townspeople. The first was that he was being boarded with a young couple in the village who had a spare bedroom. The second was that he was to work in a nearby restaurant, one that was owned by the brother of an old friend of his father’s. The third was that the couple he was staying with also worked at the restaurant, so he could ride with them to and from it. The fourth was that, much to Adam’s chagrin, he wasn’t allowed his cellphone or laptop. The fifth, and implied, thing was that Adam wouldn’t be able to get out of this easily. 

As Lumiere led him on a tour of the small town, Adam couldn’t help but feel increasingly uneasy about the situation.

“So, what do people do around here for fun?” The prince asked. Adam’s idea of fun was expensive parties and travelling to expensive cities.

“Ah, there is much to do around here for fun!” Lumiere said boisterously. “We spend time with our loved ones, we have parties, we go to movies. And there’s a farmer’s market every Sunday.”  
“You have movie theatres here?” Adam asked. He was a fan of movies and this was something he could get behind.

“We have one. Charming little place, it may not get the blockbusters but it does get some very nice films,” Lumiere elaborated. “It only has three houses but I’m sure you can find something you’ll like.” 

They were driving around in Lumiere’s car, which was at least nicer than the cab Adam had arrived in. Lumiere pointed out all of his favorite spots. “There’s the karaoke bar, very popular amongst the younger crowds. And right there is the library, very popular amongst the older crowds.” 

“Is the library any good?”

“Any good…?” Lumiere cocked his head.

“Does it have a good selection? Newer titles?”

Lumiere laughed, something he seemed to do a lot. “I’m not a big reader myself, but a good friend of mine spends a lot of time at the library. If her word is anything to go off of, and I do trust her word, the library isn’t very good.”

“Oh,” Adam said, a little disappointed. He wasn’t much of a bookworm anymore, but when he was young he almost did nothing but read. He could spend hours in the library at his childhood mansion, and often got into trouble for reading past his bedtime. He hadn’t been a big fan of the outdoors or video games or anything else most kids his age had been into. Books were his  _ thing,  _ for several years. It was a pastime he wouldn’t mind getting back into.

Pointing out a large pond to him, Lumiere told him about how skating on it was a popular activity in the wintertime. He then went on a small tangent about all the fun winter and holiday recreations that he loved and that Adam would be able to partake in later in the year. Adam found that Lumiere, though he often went off topic and could seemingly talk for hours on end without running out of things to say, was a good storyteller. He enjoyed listening to the other man talk about the village. It almost made the place seem bearable. 

And even if being stuck in Villeneuve turned out to be completely terrible, at least Adam could see himself becoming friends with Lumiere. 

 

Lumiere’s house was small. A lot smaller than anything Adam was used to. His entire house appeared to have a smaller square footage than Adam’s bedchambers back home. There was something kind of cozy about it, though. 

“Plumette!” Lumiere called into the home as they stood in the living room.

A muffled, “Coming!” came from somewhere in the house. Adam took a look around. The living room was almost cluttered with decoration. There was a bookshelf on one wall that housed more movies and knick-knacks than books. Family pictures and posters showing images of France covered the walls. The couches were mismatched and covered in blankets and throw pillows. There was a large jute rug covering the hardwood floors. The smell of incense was in the air. A very intricate and old looking candelabra sat on a coffee table that appeared to be handmade. 

“It’s a family heirloom,” Lumiere explained proudly, noticing that Adam was looking at the candelabra. “Passed down from generation to generation since the 1700s.” 

Plumette came out of the hallway then, smiling brightly. “Welcome, your highness,” she said, attempting to curtsy.

Adam opened his mouth to speak, but Lumiere cut him off before he could. “He prefers to be called Adam,  _ ma chérie.”  _

She laughed lightly but nervously, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Adam assured.”

She nodded, and then smiled again. “Nice to meet you… Adam. I’m Plumette. Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

Adam raised his eyebrows at the name as he followed her down the hall. He wondered if everyone in Villeneuve had such strange names.

Lumiere and Plumette’s guest room had such stark contrast to the rest of the home. Whereas the rest of the house was warm and covered in decore, the guest room was blank. The walls were white and the sheets on the bed were grey. There was a plain dresser in one corner of the room, and no furniture besides that and the bed. A small picture of a beach scene was hung on one wall. 

“I hope you find it alright,” Plumette said, looking at him curiously awaiting a reaction. He didn’t say anything, just smiled awkwardly and propped his suitcase against the wall. “You’ll start working on Wednesday, in case no one told you. You have today and tomorrow to do… well, whatever you want, I suppose.”

Adam cringed at the thought of working. “What am I doing? At this restaurant, I mean.”

“You’ll be apart of the waitstaff, like me. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it soon enough. And you’ll have me and Belle to help you.”

Adam nodded unenthusiastically. “Lumiere works there too, yes?”  
“Yes, but he’s not a waiter. He’s been the maître'd for a few years now.”

“Speaking of which,” Lumiere said, appearing in the hall. “We must be leaving for work soon. Make yourself at home!”

 

Adam felt… displaced. He had situated himself in the living room and had been watching Lumiere and Plumette’s movie collection. They had an interesting library of old comedy movies and odd arthouse films. His mind kept wandering though, and he felt as if he hadn’t absorbed anything he had been watching. 

He yearned for home, which was strange.  _ Home _ wasn’t really something Adam had felt for a long time. It wasn’t something he had really thought about, but Lumiere’s expression, ‘make yourself at home,’ kept bouncing around in the prince’s mind. He hadn’t really felt at home in his fancy apartment back in Paris. And he hadn’t felt at home in the mansion he lived in with his father before that.

_ Make yourself at home. _

He pulled his legs onto the couch and rested his chin on his knees. He had just come to the realization that he hadn’t really felt at home since his mother died. He shut his eyes and wrapped his arms around his legs. He felt silly for overthinking a common phrase so much.

_ Make yourself at home _ . 

Home was sitting in the library by the fireplace with his mother while she read to him. Or while they read separate books, but in each other’s company. Home was her laughter echoing around the large rooms of the mansion. Home had escaped his grasp when all that was left was his father’s cold demeanor. 

He blinked rapidly, trying to fight off tears. Even when he was on his own he couldn’t stand the thought of crying. He felt the familiar signs of an anxiety attack and tried to fight them off. He hadn’t felt like this in a few years now.  _ ‘Deep breaths, _ ’ he thought to himself, trying to follow suit. 

That was when he heard the sound of Lumiere and Plumette’s car pulling up to the house. He sprung up off the couch, shut the TV off, and practically bolted to the guest room. There was no way he was going to get caught freaking out on their couch the first day he had arrived. He got into bed without even worrying about the fact that he was fully dressed and covered himself with the duvet. Minutes later when Plumette glanced into the room to check on him, he heard her whisper to her fianc é that he must’ve been napping. Then he heard the door softly close all the way. 

He eventually did drift off to sleep. He dreamt of home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what I hate? Short chapters. So it disappoints me deeply that I can't seem to get past five pages on all of these chapters so far. I really am trying my best, I swear. Next chapter our protagonists finally get to meet. I've never worked at a restaurant though, so hopefully I don't get it too terribly wrong. I know as much about being a waiter as Adam does, which is absolutely nothing.


	4. Put Our Service to the Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's where she meets prince charming.

Belle was a little surprised when she woke up on Wednesday morning to find her father downstairs, drinking coffee. It wasn’t usual for him to be awake before eleven. 

“Good morning, papa,” she said to her father when she entered the kitchen. Her father greeted her with a grunt, clearly preoccupied with his sketchbook. Even if he did wake up early, Maurice had never been much of a morning person. 

Belle had always been a morning person. She loved the fresh start a morning provided, and the possibilities of the day ahead. Maurice would say that she inherited that from her mother, which was one of the few things she knew about the woman. 

This day wasn’t one she was particularly excited about, however, as it was the day that the prince would start working at Cogsworth’s. Plumette said that the man had been nothing but a gentleman so far, but Belle still had reservations about trying to teach a member of the royal family how to work in the service industry. She liked to think that she was an acceptable teacher, though. She had tutored a few kids in the neighborhood before, and surely teaching someone how to wait would be easier than teaching a child to read. Hopefully.

Belle poured herself a cup of coffee, and a bowl of cereal to go with it. She sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes while she ate her breakfast before trying to speak to her father again. “So… do you remember that prince I told you about?”

Her father looked up from his sketchbook and smiled at her, amused. “The one you expect to be full of himself and an incompetent waiter?”

Belle sighed. She propped her left elbow on the table and leaned her chin on her hand. “I just can’t imagine that someone as spoiled as a royal could be easy to give directions to.”

Maurice paused his drawing, looked up, and gave her that fatherly smile he always gave before giving advice. “No one is impossible to teach. And you should know that you can’t judge someone before even meeting them.”

Belle winced a little. She knew very well that she shouldn’t make quick judgements of people, it had been a lesson she was taught all her life. She had grown up being told that, and usually was very good at following that lesson. The idea of a prince though…

“You’re right, papa,” Belle frowned. She felt a little bad about her premature judgements, even though this prince would never know of them.

“Of course I am,” Maurice said, returning to his sketchbook with a smile. “I always am.”

“Not too sure about that one…” Belle teased. Maurice let out a snort, but said nothing in response.

 

Belle got into work a little early that morning. She didn’t have to clock in for another twenty minutes, so she sought out Beatrice. 

Beatrice Potts was one of the few people who made a point to arrive early to work every day. She worked in the kitchen and specialized in desserts. She was the type of person who could make any situation a little brighter. Belle had known the woman for years. Beatrice used to babysit Belle when she was a child, and Belle sometimes babysat for Beatrice’s son. Belle had never told her, but she had always seen Beatrice as a bit of a mother figure. 

Beatrice was in the kitchens, making sure everything was perfect and ready for the day ahead. The only other person clocked in was the head  chef Bouche. Belle waved at Bouche, but he was too preoccupied washing dishes to notice. Beatrice smiled warmly at Belle as she approached.

“Ready for the day, poppet?” She asked as she scrubbed at a spot on the counter.

Belle laughed breathily. “I suppose. Plumette and I have to train that prince today.”

“Ooh, that sounds exciting!” Beatrice said enthusiastically. “Very auspicious to have royalty living in our little town.”

“I’m sure it is,” she replied, flatly.

Belle had never understood the obsession with royalty and celebrity. Princes were just people. The only thing that separated a prince from someone like Beatrice or Belle was upbringing and the luck of being born royal. This prince was no better or more special than any of Belle’s other neighbors, yet he was treated with awe and reverence everywhere he went. People talked about this man as if he was more than just a man. 

Belle had Googled the prince the night before. Though Belle knew that tabloids were not the best source of information, lots of websites had a lot of defamatory things to say about this prince.  _ He parties too hard, he has a problem with drugs, he has illegitimate children all over the world,  _ these websites would proclaim. Even the more ‘reputable’ websites spun tales of Adam Villenueve’s wild antics. Paparazzi photos showed him drunk, hanging on a new woman every weekend, and picking fights with the aforementioned paparazzi. He didn’t seem like the friendliest of fellows. 

In fact, his behavior (at least according to the gossip and rumors) sounded awfully familiar to her. He sounded like an even more spoiled version of Gaston. Belle shuddered at the thought. 

Belle steered the conversation away from the prince, asking Beatrice how her son was doing in school instead. They chatted on for some time, until Belle had to go clock in. As she was signing in, Plumette rushed up to her. Belle glanced at her friend, catching the excited look on her face. She finished signing in, and then took a step back to allow Plumette to do the same. 

“Good morning,  _ mon amie _ ,” said Lumiere, who had been following behind. He was waiting behind Plumette to clock in as well.

“Good morning, Lumiere,” Belle said cheerfully. Behind Lumiere was the prince. He looked very unhappy, and Belle thought she detected some nervousness. He looked like how she imagined the princes from the story books she read as a child; tall, classically handsome, blonde with bright blue eyes. She could tell by the way he stood and looked around the room that he thought the restaurant was beneath him. Still, she tried to brush her assumptions about him aside. For all she knew, he could be a perfectly decent man who was adjusting to a new environment. The rumors could simply be rumors.

“Hi, I’m Belle.” She reached a hand out for him to shake. He looked down at her warily, as if she was a strange animal that might carry a disease or bite him if he approached.

“Adam,” he said slowly, shaking her hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said politely. He did not respond. Belle felt awkward.

Plumette pulled her aside as Lumiere showed the prince how to clock in for his shift.

“He’s handsome, no?” Plumette whispered, sounding like a teenager.

Belle shrugged, looking back over at her shoulder at Adam and Lumiere. “I suppose.” She looked back at the expectant look on her best friend’s face and sighed. “If you even  _ think  _ about setting me up with him…”

Plumette feigned offense.  _ “Moi?  _ Try to play matchmaker? I would never.” Plumette let out a huff at the unamused look on Belle’s face. “I just think it would be adorable if you of all people ended up with a prince. I remember you always wanting to dress as fairy tale princesses for Halloween.”

_ “Halloween _ , Plumette, not real life,” Belle chided. Plumette sighed dramatically.

Belle appreciated and loved Plumette a whole lot, but she did grow tiresome of her meddling sometimes. Plumette was a big believer in love, and enjoyed trying to set people up. She had idyllic idea of true love and romance and soulmates. Her and Lumiere had started dating when they were 16, and had been together ever since. They had gotten engaged the previous spring, and couldn’t wait to be married. Belle adored them both, and loved them as a couple, but sometimes they could be a little sickening to be around. 

Belle wasn’t anti-romance, though. She grew up on cheesy love stories and romcoms, after all. She just didn’t always appreciate Plumette’s advice and matchmaking, and had more realistic expectations for love. And as exciting as the idea of having a handsome prince come to a small village, sweeping a young woman off her feet, and riding off into the sunset would be in a film… It just didn’t translate into the real world. 

“Belle,” Lumiere interrupted with his usual amount of grandiose, Adam tagging along behind him. Speaking to the prince, he went on, “as the most patient of all of us here at Cogsworth’s, has been chosen to teach you the fine art of serving. She’ll walk you through the steps, and then you get to tail her today. If all goes well, you’ll be able to hold your own on your next shift.”

Belle gave Adam a small, nervous smile that he didn’t acknowledge. 

 

“This is easy, I promise,” she assured the prince. 

“I’m sure it is,” he replied. He clearly wasn’t taking the job too seriously.

Adam tugged at his shirt collar in discomfort. He wasn’t a fan of the uniform they all had to wear. It was a simple white button up shirt paired with black dress pants. All of the waiters wore this, and Belle could tell he wasn’t happy about it, though she could only speculate as to why. Maybe it wasn’t as nice and comfortable as the clothes he was used to, maybe he didn’t like dressing uniformly. It didn’t strike her as important enough to ask.

The restaurant had just opened, and a few people had already arrived for breakfast. Cogsworth’s had actually only recently starting serving all three meals. It had been Henri’s idea to grow profits, so he came up with a breakfast menu and decided that the lighting would be much brighter until the afternoon. It still wasn’t the most popular of breakfast spots, but they did make decent revenue on the weekends.

Belle directed him to the front of the restaurant. “When customers are brought to a table in your section, the first thing you do is greet them,” Belle said, using her teaching voice. “This is important, as you want the customers to feel welcome. Let’s pretend that Lumiere here was just sat at your table. How would you greet him?” 

Lumiere turned on his heel at his  maître'd post and smiled cheesily at them. “Bonjour. I am a customer. I would like to eat,” he said stiffly, with his arms rigid at his side. Belle let out a quiet laugh.

Adam seemed tense. “Ah… Welcome? To… What’s this place called again?” He turned to Belle for assistance.

“Cogsworth’s.”

“Welcome to Cogsworth’s?” He said unsurely, still looking at Belle instead of their fake customer.

Belle raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that a question?”

Adam cleared his throat, looking back to Lumiere. “Welcome to Cogworth’s,” he said. It sounded insincere, but more sure. It was a start, at least.

“Next, after you’ve welcomed them to our restaurant, you’ll ask what they’d like to drink.” She led him over to an empty table in her section. “Once they’ve ordered their drinks, your top priority becomes getting those drinks out to them as fast as possible. You’ll ask if they’re ready to order, usually they’ll say they need a few minutes. If they need time, move on with your job and come back about five minutes later. Write down their orders, and try to keep track of who ordered what. Check back after a few minutes to ask if there’s anything else they need, like extra salt or a refill on their drink.”

She paused, seeing the prince’s furrowed brows. “Any questions or concerns so far?”

Adam hesitated to answer. “It’s just… this seems like a lot to do?”

Belle had to quell her thoughts. She was trying not to be too judgemental, after all. “Think of it as six steps,” she said reassuringly. “Step one, greet and take their drink order. Two, take their food order. Three, deliver food. Four, check in to see how they’re doing. Five, once people are done eating, start taking away their empty dishes. Six, deliver the check. It’s simple once you get the hang of it.”

“But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

“Well, yes. But not much more. Those are the basic guidelines to follow. You’ll see what I mean when we get some people in this section. Then you can watch what I do.”

“What do I do when I’m not doing any of that?” 

“Help. Clean up tables, assist other waiters if they need assistance, check up on your tables. Make sure you’re available to the customers at all times.” Adam was cringing. 

Belle bit her lip worriedly. “Have you ever had a job before?” 

Adam squinted at her. “Why would I have ever had a job before?” He asked arrogantly.

Belle rubbed her temple in frustration. “Look,” she said calmly. “I know it can be a little overwhelming holding a job for the first time. It’s-”  
“I don’t get overwhelmed,” he cut her off. 

She smiled fakely at up at him. “Clearly. It can be hard to get used to, but I promise it’s easy. It can be a stressful job at times, but it’s not an overly complicated one.”

“Do we get breaks?”

“Of course. For an eight hour shift like this one, you get a half hour lunch break and two fifteen minute breaks.”

Adam scoffed. “That’s it? That’s over seven hours of work.” Belle stared at him. “That’s a lot, isn’t it? People can’t do that much work in a row.”

She closed her mouth, not realizing she had been gaping slightly. “It’s… Eight hours is a standard shift. Most people work that much every day, I assure you it’s possible. It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“Whatever,” he said, shifting his jaw and looking around at the restaurant. “Don’t you find it sort of… degrading? Serving people like this?”

“Excuse me?”

He looked back at Belle. “No offense.” She wasn’t sure he meant it. 

Before she could respond, Lumiere lead an elderly couple to one of Belle’s tables. She smiled up at Adam, before heading towards the table. Adam followed along begrudgingly. 

“Bonjour!” She greeted the pair. “Welcome to Cogsworth’s, my name is Belle and I’ll be your server this morning.” She gestured to the prince, continuing, “This is our new trainee, his name is Adam and he’ll be helping me help you today. Can I get you two anything to drink?” She took their order, and then led Adam back to the kitchens. 

“Trainee?”

Without looking up from the coffee she was pouring, she said, “It’s what you are. You’re training. You’re a trainee.”

“Now  _ that’s _ degrading.” Belle grit her teeth.

Adam followed Belle along for the rest of the day, practically dragging his feet. He whined almost the entire time, giving Belle a headache by the time their shift was over. Adam almost knocked her over trying to clock out the second it was time to leave. Plumette met them at the time clock. “How was it?” She asked them both.

“It was…” Belle tried to find a positive but honest way to describe the day.

“Exhausting,” Adam said for her. Belle would have to agree on that one.

Plumette smiled. “Well, it is only your first day. First days are always taxing. Lumiere and I both have another hour and a half of work, so we can’t drive you home today.”

“How am I supposed to get back?” He asked, groaning a little.

“Belle can take you, if she doesn’t mind.”

_ She does mind,  _ Belle thought, but out loud she only said, “Fine by me.” Adam huffed.

He only got more annoyed once he realized that Belle didn’t have a car.

“It’s only a ten minute walk,” she told him. 

“Great! It’s a one minute drive.” He walked ahead of her, even though she knew he didn’t know the way. 

“Oh, you must find walking so  _ degrading,”  _ Belle said sarcastically. 

“Wha- Oh, are you really annoyed at that comment?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“Am I annoyed that you told me that my job, and the job that some of my closest friends have, is degrading? Just a bit.”

He stopped, turning back to her. “I’m sorry. I just think it’s a little demeaning to have to serve and clean up after others for hours on end.”

“It’s called a job, _ your highness.”  _ She stopped walking, too. “Either you serve others, or you wait around expecting everyone else to serve you. Personally, I find the latter more  _ degrading.”  _

“I don’t just sit around and do nothing all day,” he argued.

“Oh, my apologies for making that assumption. What is it that you used to do all day?” She asked, feigning politeness. 

Adam opened and closed his mouth several times. “I… I travel. And I…”

“Sit around, do nothing, and wait for people to serve you?” She asked, looking up at him expectantly.

He glared at her. “Whatever! Just take me back to Lumiere’s house.”

Belle said nothing and continued walking, ahead of him this time. 

She decided that the universe was out to annoy her that day, because only moments later did her greatest nuisance appear.

“Belle!” Called out Gaston. Looking across the road. She saw Gaston walking his dog on the other side. She could swear her headache immediately got worse. He trotted over to her with his Irish Settler in tow. 

“I just want to go home,” Adam said to himself.

“Belle!” He said again once he had reached her. “How are you this evening?”  
“I’m doing fine, Gaston. I just finished work, and now I’m going home for dinner.”

“Oh, dinner? Maybe we could-”

“Not today, sorry!” Belle said quickly, regretting even mentioning her plans. “I’m… tired, tonight. Maybe some other time.” 

Gaston looked a bit dejected, but she knew he wouldn’t give up. It was then that he seemed to notice Adam’s presence. Gaston was slightly taller than the prince, and he used that to his advantage, looking down at the other man as much as he could. It was clear that he viewed the other man as some sort of threat.

“Who are you?” Gaston asked, and not in a friendly way.

Adam stared at Gaston for a moment. “Really?” Gaston continued to look at him expectantly. “Oh, okay. I’m... Adam Villeneuve.” Gaston continued to stare. “Of the Villeneuve family? My great uncle is the King of France.”

Belle could visualize a lightbulb flicking on above the soldier’s head. “Oh,  _ you’re _ the prince. Of course!” He seemed friendly now, but Belle knew Gaston. He wasn’t truly friendly with men he perceived as threats. Adam was tall, good looking, and a prince on top of that. Gaston would view him as competition, and Gaston hated competition. “How are you enjoying the village? And what are you doing with Belle?” He tried to sound as genuine as possible, but Belle could see right through that.

Belle could see Adam thinking, but spoke instead. “He works at Cogsworth’s, too. I’m walking him home.”

“Oh, that’s so kind of you, Belle! I’ve always admired your kindness.” Adam faked gagging, but Gaston didn’t notice. “Where are you living?” Gaston asked, looking at Belle still even though the question was addressed to the prince.

“He’s staying with Plumette and Lumiere,” Belle answered for Adam again. She refused to let Gaston make any assumptions. Gaston seemed content with this knowledge. 

“Well, I’ll let you go on your way,” he nodded. “I’ll see you later, Belle. We must get dinner together soon!” He said as he walked away.

Belle and Adam continued walking. “What the hell was that?” Adam asked once he was certain that Gaston was far out of earshot. “Ex-boyfriend?”

Belle shuddered. “God, no. Never. Ever.”

Adam glanced back over his shoulder. “Stalker?”

“You’re getting warmer,” Belle joked. “He’s just… Well, Gaston. He sort of resents the fact that I’m the only woman in town who has no interest in his charms.”

Adam was silent for a moment. “He seems like a huge asshole.”

Belle agreed, but she didn’t say that out loud. She certainly wasn’t a big fan of Adam, either.

Finally, she left Adam behind at her friends’ home and was able to get back to her own. The day had been exhausting, and the prospect of working alongside this prince was not a good one. Still, Belle knew she could get through it. Adam would eventually learn to do things on his own, and she wouldn’t have to deal with him much. And he probably wouldn’t be in Villeneuve for very long, anyways. His family had dropped him there as punishment, but she doubted they’d let a royal squander away in the middle of nowhere for very long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extremely sorry to the people who found this back in the summertime. It's been a rough few months, and I kept procrastinating on this chapter. I'm hopeful that I can get back into this story and post upcoming chapters a lot faster.
> 
> I have never worked in any kind of food service, so hopefully I didn't mess things up too badly. I watched various restaurant training videos as research. Happy Valentine's Day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about the slow updates. I'm getting into writing again now, and I'm really enjoying it.

Lumiere and Plumette were, in a way, almost too hospitable. At least for Adam’s tastes. Maybe it was because he simply wasn’t used to that. Lumiere made breakfast every morning. The first two days of his stay he ate alongside them at their breakfast table, but after that he began taking his food outside and eating on the bench in their front garden. It was simply too early to be in the presence of so much…  _ warmth _ . 

 

Lumiere and Plumette were so in love that Adam found it almost sickening. And maybe that was because he was unused to that, too. He grew up surrounded by arranged marriages and marriages of convenience. His parents’ marriage was arranged, as were his grandparents’ marriages. Love didn’t seem to be much of a priority amongst his family. 

 

So there Adam sat on the bench, eating his scrambled eggs and drinking his coffee. He watched a pair of ducks waddle across the street and blinked slowly at them, still trying to wake himself up. 

 

It had been two weeks since he arrived in Villeneuve. It wasn’t completely terrible, though Adam wouldn’t admit it. Lumiere and Plumette, disgustingly in love as they were, were perfectly good people. He even enjoyed being around them most of the time. They did a great job at making him feel welcome, even though he was in the village against his will. On his first weekend in Villeneuve, the two had taken him on a long walk through town, showing him their favorite sights. 

 

He was, slowly, starting to get the hang of working at Cogsworth’s. Belle was incredibly patient with him, probably more so than he deserved. His other coworkers seemed very nice, especially Mrs. Potts.  _ ‘Coworkers,’ _ Adam thought to himself, still staring at the ducks. He had never imagined he’d ever have  _ coworkers _ .

 

Lumiere and Plumette seemed to be very good friends with a lot of the people that worked at the restaurant. Belle had been over for dinner several times, and Mrs. Potts had been over for lunch one weekend with her husband and young son. Adam quite liked Mrs. Potts, she had this maternal energy that he hadn’t realized he was missing in his life. Her husband was also very nice, though he seemed to have some memory issues. Their son Chip was incredibly adorable. And Belle was… interesting.

 

Adam and Belle didn’t get along very well. She didn’t seem to like him very much, and Adam didn’t care enough to try to change that opinion. He was used to people not liking him very much. She was very hardworking and opinionated, and that clashed with Adam being decidedly  _ not  _ hardworking (at least at Cogsworth’s) and also opinionated. 

 

He hadn’t yet met Henri Cogsworth, however, something he was anxious for. Henri had known his father. Maybe not very well, but he had known him. Adam didn’t know too much about what Olivier was like as a younger man. Maybe he was different,  _ better, _ even. Or maybe Henri was just as cold. Adam was trying not to dwell too much on thoughts of his father, but he couldn’t help it. Olivier had talked about the village fondly, even going so far as to call it  _ lovely.  _ Adam couldn’t imagine his father enjoying a place like this. But at some point in time, long before Adam was born and when the village was even smaller, Olivier Villeneuve had stayed there and loved it. 

 

It was the weekend again. Normally, the prince would sleep in on weekends. He’d wake up shortly after noon, eat, exercise, shower, and then sort out his plans for the evening. Usually those plans involved friends that were a bad influence, alcohol that cost too much, and women who were very attracted to the idea of royalty. Now his weekends started much earlier, much to Adam’s chagrin. He was miles and miles away from those friends and those parties now.

 

After breakfast, Adam decided to check out that library. He got directions from Plumette, and then set out by himself. Adam had never really gone on walks before, but he preferred to be independent and didn’t want to rely on Lumiere to give him rides. He took a wrong turn and ended up at a cafe, which was fine by him. He stopped to get another cup of coffee, and to get clarification on those directions. 

 

Eventually, he found his way to the library. He wouldn’t have thought the building was a library if not for the sign out front. It was much smaller than any library Adam had seen before, even public ones. He sighed before entering. He had been told beforehand that the library wasn’t very good, but he was still let down. There was one outdated computer, which was occupied. The bookshelves were few and sparse. He went for the fantasy section, browsing the limited titles to see if anything looked interesting. He heard a cough from somewhere nearby, but didn’t pay any mind to it. At least, until he heard that same cough another two times and recognized it as fake. 

 

Adam glanced around, trying to parse if it was him that someone was trying to catch the attention of. At a small table near the shelf he was at sat two men, one looking at him smugly with crossed arms. He looked familiar to Adam. The other man had his back to him.

 

“Hello again, Prince Adam,” spoke the smug looking man. And then it clicked, Adam recognized him as that prick who flirted with Belle after his first day at Cogsworth’s. Despite the warm summer weather, Gaston was wearing boots and a leather jacket. 

 

Adam felt uncomfortable, but tried not to show it. Men like Gaston could spot that weakness and exploit it in a second. He decided to act aloof. “Again?” Adam smiled in a way he hoped would read as friendly, but confused. “Have we met before, sir?”

 

Adam knew Gaston’s kind well. He grew up with men like him. He was related to men like him. Gaston felt intimidated by Adam for some reason, and he showed that by overcompensating with cockiness and arrogance. .

 

He saw the man sitting with Gaston lean forward, burying his face in his hands as if embarrassed by his companion. Gaston tried to look impassive, but Adam saw him clench his jaw tighter. “We have, actually. It was about a week ago. Belle was walking you home?”

 

Belle was clearly a soft spot for this man, and Adam couldn’t resist the urge to fuck with him a little. “I walk home with Belle often, and I’ve met a lot of people in the past few weeks,” Adam smiled down at Gaston. “You’d have to be a little more specific.” That was a lie, of course. Belle had only walked him back to Lumiere and Plumette’s home twice, and he had figured out his own way since then. They usually left work at different times, and he rarely saw her outside of the restaurant. Whenever she was at his host’s home he tended to avoid her, lest they get into another disagreement and make things even more awkward.

 

Gaston furrowed his brow. Adam had challenged him, something he probably wasn’t used to. Then he leaned back in his chair and smirked, acting as if he didn’t care that Adam hadn’t remembered him. “Understandable,” Gaston said. “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other eventually. We seem to run in the same circles.” 

 

_‘I don’t think pining after a woman who clearly isn’t interested counts as running in the same circles,’_ Adam thought. The prince simply nodded in response to that. 

 

The other man at the table then turned to finally look at Adam. He had dark black hair like Gaston, but they didn’t look related. He was shorter and stouter than Gaston, and wasn’t dressed as well. He seemed nervous, and Adam wondered if it was him that was making him nervous. Sometimes the title of Prince had that effect on people. Gaston paid no mind to his friend, continuing to try to stare Adam down. 

 

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Adam said, directing his attention away from Gaston and to the other man. “I’m Adam.” The prince reached out a hand. He heard Gaston huff. 

 

“LeFou,” the man said, taking his hand and shaking it. “Nice to meet you.” 

 

“Likewise,” Adam responded charmingly. There was something about LeFou that made him seem kinder than Gaston. They seemed to have an oddly matched friendship. He noticed that neither of them had anything at their table. No books or laptops, or anything else you’d expect someone to have with them at a library. LeFou had his phone out and seemed to be texting someone. They were just hanging out, which seemed very odd to Adam. No one else around their age was just hanging out in the library, and surely there were more popular and suitable places to sit and have a chat with your friend? “Big readers, are you two?” 

 

Gaston, unconvincingly, said, “Oh, yes. I love books. One of my favorite pastimes.” Adam doubted Gaston had ever willingly read a book in his life. 

 

LeFou sighed. “We’re only here for  _ her,”  _ he said quietly. He seemed very bored. Gaston shot a look at his friend that told him to be silent. 

 

Adam could only assume that this ‘her’ was Belle. It seemed that Gaston had dragged his poor friend along on a stalking mission. Adam wondered if this was something that happened often. LeFou’s exasperation implies that it did. 

 

He heard the library door open and close, and saw Gaston perk up. LeFou sighed again. Gaston got out of his seat, went to the nearest bookshelf, grabbed a title at random, and sat back down with it. He opened it to a random page and then sat it down on the table as if he had been reading it. He then resumed his waiting. 

 

Adam scoffed at the other man, and then turned back to his shelf to continue his search. After a moment, a woman entered his peripheral vision. He glanced over and watched as Belle started to walk into the section he was in, caught sight of Gaston, and then backtracked and walked to another part of the library. The prince smirked, and looked over his shoulder to see Gaston’s reaction. He looked very angry. 

 

“Let’s just leave, Gaston,” his friend told him quietly, leaning forward. “It’s not worth it. We’re going to be late for brunch.” Gaston ignored his friend and got up to pursue Belle. LeFou rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat. 

 

“Belle!” He heard Gaston exclaim from the next aisle over. Adam, as naturally as he could so as not to look like he was  _ trying  _ to eavesdrop, made his way over to the shelf on the opposite side of his section. He could admit to himself that he was nosey, but he couldn’t really help it. Adam had always been curious, had always wanted to know what was going on. And he couldn’t imagine there was much drama in this small town, this might be the most interesting dynamic he could find here. 

 

“Good morning, Gaston,” Belle said politely. Adam could tell from the tone of her voice that she was already over this conversation. 

 

“We just keep running into each other here, isn’t that funny?” Adam cringed, thinking about Gaston waiting there in the library for Belle just to harass her. 

 

Belle took a moment to respond. “You know,” she said slowly. “For all the times I see you in this library, you never seem to be reading.”

 

“Oh, but I was just reading, actually. A very good one, too.” Gaston said earnestly. 

 

Adam slowly made his way to the end of his shelf, inching closer and closer to the edge. He didn’t want to look as if he was spying, even if LeFou was too preoccupied with his phone to notice him. 

 

“Really? What book?” 

 

Gaston stammered for a moment before changing the subject. “Belle, we really ought to get together soon. I’m only in town for a few months longer, you know.”

 

“I know,” Belle responded. Adam got the feeling she was practically counting down the days until Gaston left for whatever reason he had to leave. “I’ve just been so… busy, you know. With work. And I’ve been working on this invention, and-”

 

“All I ask is for an hour or two of your time, Belle,” Gaston interrupted. 

 

Adam finally rounded the corner into the next aisle. They were both facing away from him, Belle browsing the books in the romance section and Gaston leaning against the shelf, hovering behind her. Adam tried to look preoccupied with the bookshelf on the other side of the aisle.

 

“Gaston…” she said, sighing. She finally turned to face the man, looking at him with a tired expression on her face. “I don’t know a more gentle way to turn you down. You’ve been asking me out for years, can’t you just let it be?” Her eyes flickered towards Adam, but she didn’t seem to react to his presence. 

 

“How can I let it be when you won’t even give me a chance, Belle?” Gaston said, leaning closer to her. Belle shifted away from him.

 

Adam wondered if he should say something. He didn’t know Belle well, but from what he did know he was sure she could stand up for herself. But Gaston was a large man, and he gave Adam very bad vibes. Frankly, he wasn’t sure if Gaston was a safe person to be around. He didn’t like the way the other man was looking at her.

 

“I don’t need to give you a chance, Gaston,” she turned her nose up at him and straightened her back. She was nearly a foot shorter than him, yet she acted as if she was level with him. “I’ve known you since we were kids, and I haven’t liked what I’ve seen in all that time.”

 

“Belle,” Gaston smiled down at her, unphased. He shook his head. “I was an idiot when we were kids. Kids are all idiots. You can’t judge me for the things I did back then. 

 

She put her hands on her hips. “Yes, but I can judge you for the things you do now, like refusing to take ‘no’ for an answer.” 

 

“Belle,” Gaston went on. Adam noticed that he tended to make sweeping gestures with his hands and arms when he spoke as if every sentence he said was of the utmost importance. “This is a small town we live in. It’s not like you have many other options, not that you would need any. I’m the most eligible bachelor in the whole area. And we’re getting older now. You don’t have much more time to settle down and have children.” 

 

Adam wished he could take a photo of the face Belle made at that statement. She was normally so composed, but now her face showed a look of pure disgust and abject horror. Gaston realized he had said the wrong thing as soon as he saw that look, and attempted to backtrack. “I just mean that, you know, that-” Gaston stammered for a moment. “You have to get settle down at some point, eventually. There’s only so much time, biologically speaking, that girls-”

 

“Excuse me?” said Adam, turning fully to face the scene before him. “Gaston, is it?” He wasn’t fully sure why he had decided to speak up. Belle could certainly handle the situation, and it wasn’t his business anyways. Yet he felled oddly compelled to get involved.

 

“What?” Gaston asked snappily. He looked embarrassed and annoyed, and Adam seemingly forgetting his name again after being reminded of it just a few minutes ago probably wasn’t helping.

 

“I was just wondering, what is the current year?”   
  


“The year?” Gaston sneered. “Is something wrong with you?”

 

Belle was giving him a strange look that he couldn’t read.    
  


“Just answer the question,” Adam said, crossing his arms. 

 

“It’s 2018, dumbass.”

 

“Is it? That’s odd. Then, can you explain why it is that you still talk to women like it’s the 1800s?”

 

“Thank you for your concern about my  _ biology,  _ Gaston, but I think I’ll be fine,” Belle spoke defiantly, glaring at him. “We’re only twenty-five, in case you forgot, and that makes me worry a bit about your health class education. I don’t want marriage or children anytime soon, and I’d rather be alone forever than have to settle for someone like you.” 

 

“Belle-” Gaston started.

 

“No, Gaston. I’m so beyond tired of this. You’ve been pursuing me for close to a decade now. I don’t know what it’s going to take to get you to understand that I’m not interested. This  _ isn’t  _ the 1800s. Women’s options aren’t ‘get married or become a spinster’ anymore.” She got right up close to his face and pointed at him menacingly. “Leave me  _ alone,  _ Gaston. Forever.”

 

Gaston clenched his fists, clearly very angry. He was shaking slightly as he opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to think of a response. His words failing him, he let out a huff and stomped past Adam, shoving into him and almost sending him crashing into the shelf in the process. Adam stabilized himself quickly and peered around the shelf to watch Gaston storm out of the library. Moments later, LeFou wandered out from his table to follow his friend.

 

“I didn’t need your help,” Belle said. Adam turned back to look at her.

 

“Sorry, I suppose I should have just let him continue to proclaim sexist remarks in this public place,” Adam responded with sarcasm. Belle was giving him that strange look again. She had her head tilted and her eyebrows furrowed, but he couldn’t tell if she was cross with him or not. 

 

Belle didn’t say anything for a moment, she just pursed her lips and looked up at him curiously. “Thank you,” she said unsurely. 

 

Adam nodded. “Is he always like that?”

 

Belle sighed and carefully leaned against the shelf. “He’s usually more subtle than that, but yes. He has an ego to rival the gods and can’t handle rejection.” She hesitated a moment before asking, “What are you doing here, anyways?”

 

Adam squinted at her. “To read?” he responded, as it seemed obvious. “This is the library.”

 

Belle let out a soft laugh. “Of course, yeah. It’s just… people our age don’t really frequent the library. This isn’t exactly a village of bookworms. It’s strange to see someone young here who isn’t a teenager using the computer to play video games or Gaston trying to follow me around.” 

 

“Ah, well…” Adam shrugged. “I got my internet privileges revoked, so books are my main source of entertainment right now.” Adam suddenly remembered a moment from Lumiere’s initial tour of the town where he mentioned a friend he had who spent a lot of time at the library. It occurred to him now that he could only have been referring to Belle.

 

Belle smiled wryly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her overalls. It crossed Adam’s mind that it was kind of weird to see her out of uniform. At Cogsworth’s everyone dressed sort of formally. Belle always wore her hair back in a tight bun and kept her uniform ironed and pristine. And here she was now, with her hair down wearing overalls with the pant legs cuffed. 

 

“I’m afraid you won’t find a great selection of books here,” Belle said, bitterness tinging her words. Adam could have already sussed that one, judging by the fact that the whole library was about the size of his bedroom back at home. He looked around the place. There were maybe less than ten shelves. He had seen bathrooms larger than that library. He could understand why she would be bitter. 

 

“Any recommendations?” He asked. She smiled at him again. And then she showed him some of her favorite books, which he ended up checking out. Most of them weren’t really his taste, and Adam had to suppress a shudder at the sight of  _ Romeo and Juliet.  _ But it seemed important to prolong this peace that he and Belle had found. It wasn’t like they hated each other, but they did butt heads frequently at work. She had called him lazy a fair few times, and even if Adam knew he wasn’t exactly the most dedicated of employees, he didn’t care for it. But they did work together, and she was best friends with Lumiere and Plumette, so it was probably for the best if they could get along. 

 

Maybe they could even be friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to 'Me' on a loop for maybe twenty minutes while continuously trying to make Gaston even more of an asshole. Lots of fun. Also considering just giving LeFou a whole chapter of his own.
> 
> And since these updates are so slow... I guess I'm now writing a fanfiction that starts in the summer of 2018 while we're approaching the summer of 2019.


End file.
